


Porcelain Blood

by phancastic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2018-09-17 01:46:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9298799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phancastic/pseuds/phancastic
Summary: Draco Malfoy is gay, a Death Eater, a vampire, and just trying to make his way through school.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first real ? fanfiction, so please give it a chance haha

The air was heavy and cold in the dungeon. The lamps had been blown out hours ago; the common room was dark. The windows were not very useful, as they were surrounded by black water from the lake. Only the strongest of moonbeams made its way in the window and to the shiny tile floor. The floor, though, was shinier than usual. A dark, thick substance was slowly rolling across it, droplets sliding every which way, no destination in sight. The silence in the room was heavy enough to make ears ring. There was not even the sound of a heartbeat. Although, there was someone there, his presence only marked by that one strong moonbeam glinting off his almost platinum blond hair. It was a mix between gelled back and messy, since a hand had roughed it up. The boy was knelt over a body, his face hidden in its neck.   
Blood. That was all he could sense. See it, taste it, smell it. So much blood. He had drained the corpse completely, the only thing left to do was clean up what precious substance had been spilled. An easy and familiar task. A flick of his wand, that was all it took. The body, on the other hand, was a task a bit more daunting. The boy stood, wiping his blood stained lips on his sleeve, careful not to catch his fangs on the fabric. “What, oh what, to do with you?” his voice was like a whip through the silence, shattering it, even though the sound was so quiet. He paced from one side of the corpse to the other, shaking his head as if he were judging the deceased.   
He was not always this calm and collected after making a kill, especially within the confines of Hogwarts’ walls. It was not always taunting laughs and judging stares. It used to be shaking hands and panicked breaths, tears rolling down his porcelain skin as he muttered ‘I’m sorry’s like a ritual. But now, he had realized that this is what he had to do to survive. He was not going to be sorry for living any longer. He did not ask for this—a life of killing and hiding and obeying orders, but oh! His mother, his selfish cunt of a mother! She could not just let him die, let him die in peace! After an entire childhood of beatings from his wretched father, she could not let him rest! 'Lucius, oh Lucius! Find a way to bring our baby back!’ her voice was almost insulting. It played in the boy’s head much too often. 'Lucius, I love him, and I know you do too!’ Love, something Lucius Malfoy could not understand. His own fucking ego was too large to allow him to love anyone besides himself! Let alone his son. His once so innocent, bright-eyed son. No, he beat him to death, to fucking death! Draco could never forgive him for that. But, even more so, he could never forgive his mother for bringing him back to endure his father’s tauntings and beatings, let alone as a vampire. Anything but sparkling. Always hiding in the shadows, killing innocent people, hoping no one knows the secret. Ah, his father was practically joyous at the fact his son was a vampire! The beatings could not kill him now. They only got worse. Enough reminiscing.   
Draco had used an enlarging charm on his black leather bag. Useful for carrying bodies. He laid the bag down on the floor, opening it up and easily sliding the drained corpse inside. He picked up his now a bit heavier than usual bag and slung it over his shoulder. His wand, so simple in appearance, was oh so helpful to him. “Tergeo,” he whispered. The blood was gone, not a trace left on the perfectly clean room. He left the Slytherin common room to dispose of his kill before any of his 'friends’ awoke.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit thank u ?? chapter one did really well !! (i think ?)

"Oi, Malfoy! Where've you been?" Not right now, Blaise, you annoying shit. "I just thought I heard something outside is all," the Malfoy replied. "For like an hour? I woke up earlier and you weren't in your bed," the dark skinned boy said, resting his head on his hands. "You must have been mistaken, Zabini. I just left a few moments ago," Draco rolled his eyes, his robes swishing behind him as he turned. The sunlight was now filtering through the lake's dark water outside the window and lighting up the dungeon. The beams glinted off of the black tile floor and the many Quidditch trophies from years prior. Gryffindor had only recently gotten good. Draco's unusually dull grey eyes gave off a hint of shine as he looked out into the water. "Who decided a bloody dungeon was a good place for a common room?" the blond thought aloud, shaking his head. The air was frigid. Bloody Gryffindors were most likely curled up next to a warm fireplace, all wrapped up in homemade blankets. Disgusting.   
"Morning, boys. Are we going to get breakfast or not?" Pansy asked, walking out of the girls' dorm. "Mmm, good morning Pansy," Draco chuckled softly, turning to the girl. "Since when did you say 'good morning'?" Pansy scoffed, shooting the blond a playful glare. "Since it is, in fact, a good morning. Now, let's go eat before the bloody pigs get it all," Malfoy smirked, leading his friends out of the dungeon and to the Great Hall.


	3. Chapter 3

The not-so-golden trio made their way upstairs to the Great Hall. It was currently mid-November at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, so the ceiling was alight with vibrant colours. It was bewitched to look as if red, orange, yellow and brown leaves were falling infinitely onto the students' heads. Breakfast had already been summoned to the long, dark wooden tables, and many were already gathered with their friends to eat. Headmaster Albus Dumbledore had decided to forgo the daily announcements until lunch time, so that everyone would be awake. Draco and his acquaintances made their way to the Slytherin table and took a seat at the end closest to the large, double doors. While Blaise and Pansy almost immediately dug into the pancakes, waffles, eggs, and various breakfast meats, the blond boy was off in a world of his own, his eyes trained on the Gryffindor table, and more specifically, Potter.   
Draco Malfoy loathed Harry Potter with his no-longer-beating heart and soul. When he was young, probably between the ages of six to nine, he had been told of a boy. 'The Boy Who Lived', they called him. All wizards and witches alike were amazed when they heard of Harry Potter, the infant who survived the Killing Curse from the most powerful dark wizard of the age. Many were filled with a new hope. 'Maybe there truly is someone powerful enough to defeat Voldemort!' they thought. But others, the followers and accomplices of the Dark Lord, believed that the Potter boy would rise up to become the next powerful dark wizard. That is what Lucius Malfoy believed, and that is what he told his son. So imagine the, what could almost be called betrayal, young, ten-year-old Draco felt when Harry Potter chose to be friends with Ronald Weasley over him. Harry was not, in fact, going to be the next dark overlord, but the exact opposite.   
"Draco, aren't you going to eat anything?" Pansy's vexatious voice pulled the Malfoy from his recollections and his staring. "What?" Draco looked across the table at the dark haired girl. "I asked if you were going to eat anything. You've been staring at the Gryffindor table for ten minutes now," she replied, stuffing a bite of scrambled egg into her mouth. "Yeah, it's a slight bit creepy, mate," Blaise spoke up, mouth full. "You don't even blink." Draco rolled his eyes, and gave the boy a disgusted look. "I would appreciate it if you didn't speak with your mouth full. Frankly, it's revolting," he huffed. "Bloody ponce, he is," Blaise muttered to Pansy.   
At the front of the room, Professor McGonagall rushed over to the Headmaster from a side entrance, whispering something in his ear. The elder wizard immediately had a look of worry on his face as he stood, but it soon vanished as the students looked up to see what was going on. "A third year Gryffindor, Finnigan Aktiva has gone missing," Dumbledore announced. "Please, remain calm. If any of you have seen him, or have information on where he may be, please come forward. We will be launching an investigation, and if he is not found, we will be forced to call in the Ministry. Please go back to your Common Rooms as soon as you are finished with your meal." The bearded man finished his announcement and left the Hall with the Heads of the Houses.   
Draco, was to simply put it, fucked.   
He truly did not think anyone would notice that the boy had gone missing; it had not happened with his past kills! The Malfoy stood swiftly from his seat and rushed out into the hallways before they were full of panicked students.   
Potter, being always suspicious of Draco, followed suite.   
The Golden Boy stayed silent as he followed behind the Slytherin King, keeping himself at a safe distance. Draco did not go to the Slytherin Dungeon, but to the castle's main dungeon.  
He rushed over to the black leather bag that laid abandoned on the cold, concrete floor, and opened it. The foul aroma of decomposing flesh hit Draco's nostrils, but he did not notice it anymore. Harry, on the other hand, almost gagged as the scent made its way to him. The blond quickly closed the bag again and stowed it away under his robes as he turned around. He saw a figure dart quickly behind a wall. Only one person would be so suspicious of him that they would follow him down to the cold, damp dungeon.  
"Potter!"


	4. Chapter 4

"Potter!" Draco spat, whipping his wand out from his robes. He held it towards where he saw the figure, his hand shaking ever so slightly.  
Harry stayed silent, basically holding his breath. He had no idea what the blond boy would do. Would he kill him? Certainly not, Harry was far too well known for that. Draco would surely be found out if he took the Gryffindor's life. "I saw you. You can't hide. Come on out so we do not have to destroy the bloody place," Draco said, his voice low and threatening. Harry sighed; he had no other choice. He stepped out into Draco's view, holding his wand tightly. "What was in that bag?" Harry asked quietly. He was sure he knew the answer, but he wanted Draco to admit it out loud. The Slytherin boy's eyes dropped to the floor, avoiding Harry's. "Come on, Malfoy. Tell me what you've done," Harry said. Maybe this would finally be his chance to take Draco down. Harry had always been a bit suspicious of Draco, and Draco certainly never liked Harry.  
"I'm sure you know," Draco said, eyes darting up from the floor to survey Harry's face.  
"The boy? The one who's missing?" Harry asked, feeling his chest tighten as he awaited the answer.  
"I'm sure you know the answer to that as well," the blond replied.  
"Why? Why would you kill him? What had he ever done?" Harry asked, his voice getting progressively louder. Draco was taken aback at the sudden crescendo of Harry's voice. "You would not understand," Draco said simply. "What, is it some bloody little project for Voldemort?" Harry yelled, thrusting his wand accusingly at the Malfoy boy, who visibly cringed when Harry said the Dark Lord's name. "No," he replied honestly. "Then what? Do you enjoy killing innocent children? Is that what it is? I knew you were fucked up, Malfoy, but I never knew you were this bad," Harry spat, his voice like venom.  
"No! No, Potter, I am not a killer for fun; I am a killer for survival!" Draco yelled back, trying desperately to defend himself.  
"For survival? What is that even supposed to mean?" Harry kept his wand aimed at Malfoy's chest. His eyes flicked between Draco's face and his wand.  
Draco had quite the dilemma. He definitely did not want to tell Harry what he was, but there was no believable story he could make up that wouldn't result in Harry dragging him to Dumbledore and sending him to Azkaban. He came to the conclusion that the truth must be told.  
"Just... Put your wand down, and we can talk," Draco said, his voice lacking its usual sharp tone.  
"I think I have the right to ask you to put yours down first, Malfoy," Harry responded, still on high alert.  
Draco nodded, for Harry did have a point. He slipped the hawthorn wand into his robe pockets.  
Harry was surprised that Draco actually accepted his request and pocketed his wand without argument. He did so as well.  
"Well? Go on, try to give me an excuse," Harry said, crossing his arms.  
Draco's mind was clogged with the anxiety of having to tell his sworn enemy his darkest secret.  
"You cannot tell anyone," Draco said, his grey eyes darting between Harry's emerald ones.  
"I don't think you're in the position to tell me that," Potter spat.  
"Please, Potter, I do not want to beg," Draco said quietly. "I almost want to see you do it," Harry spat back.  
The boy with platinum hair and porcelain skin ran his hands over his face. His fingers were long and bony, and his fingernails had been chewed down to practically nothing. He looked up at the brunette, his eyes dark and tired. "I will not beg. I will just let you decide what is the correct course of action."  
Harry was surprised at the calm in Draco's voice. He nodded, though.  
Draco let his long, razor sharp fangs come through as he looked at Harry. They glinted in the dim firelight, shining and pearly white.  
Harry stared at the long teeth that grew from the blond's mouth, his own gaping slightly. "You're a..?"  
"Vampire, yes," Draco groaned softly. He hated this, and honestly, this whole exchange just seemed cheesy and stereotypical to him.  
"So.. you killed that boy so..so you could eat?" Harry asked, a bit of anger rising up in his eyes.  
"Potter, listen to me. I am trying my hardest here. I did not eat for over a week before that boy. I did not, and do not, intend to kill my victims. If I have not eaten for a while, I tend to overdo it," Draco told him, fiddling with his hands.  
"Well, maybe, just don't fucking overdo it!" Harry yelled, his voice bouncing off of the stone walls.  
Draco actually flinched at how angry Harry was. Yes, he was used to yelling, but not from a fellow student.  
"I would have to have a bloodmate for that," Draco said, voice quiet.  
"A bloodmate?" Harry questioned, furrowing his eyebrows together.  
"Yes. A bloodmate is one person who dedicates themselves to a vampire so that they may feed whenever they need to. It decreases the chance of said vampire starving and killing a victim when they finally get one," Draco explained.  
Harry stayed silent, nodding. "Meet me here tonight," he finally said, turning and leaving the Malfoy alone in the basement.  
What was Potter planning? Draco was sure that he would walk directly into a trap that night, but he would meet Harry. He did not have much to lose at that point.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit thank u guys for reading !!

Darkness fell over the castle and Draco was pacing outside the dungeon. He had quite the decision to make. He could either go into the dungeon and meet with Harry or turn tail and run. The blond rubbed his hands over his face, letting out a shaky sigh. He would, he decided. He opened the already ajar door, walking quietly down the dusty stone steps. Draco walked through the dark rooms and hallways until he got to a room that was lit up. The lanterns on the walls were afire, sending a warm but eerie glow over the cracked walls. "Potter?" Draco called out, slipping his wand into his palm. There was no response from the musty room. Draco's robes made a swishing sound as he turned, looking for the Gryffindor boy. "Potter!" he called again. There were soft whimpers from the room connected to the one Draco was in, so he went to investigate. There was Harry, lying on the floor with blood surrounding him. "My God, Potter," Draco rushed forwards, dropping to his knees. No, he and Potter definitely were not friends, but he would not leave him here to bleed out. The scent of blood hit Draco's nose, and he felt his fangs slide out. It was overwhelming, but he had to work past it. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He began moving his wand in a circular motion over Harry. His blood began to seep back into his wounds, wherever they were; he couldn't see them. He slipped one of his arms under Harry's back, and one under his knees, before standing. "Let's get you out of here," Draco said quietly. He carried the boy upstairs to the nurse's wing. "Madame!" the blond called out, and the plump woman came running out of her office.  
"My God!" Madame Pomfrey gasped, walking over to the two boys. "What in Merlin's name happened, Malfoy?" she asked, leading him over to a bed to let Draco set Harry down, which he did. "I do not know," Draco said, "I found him in the dungeon, covered in blood. It was... everywhere. I used a spell to pull most of it back into him. I do not know where he is hurt." Draco looked down at the wounded boy, biting his lip. Who could have done this to Harry? Draco did not know anyone inside the castle that would want to hurt him, besides himself.  
"Someone cut his stomach.. badly. He's lucky that you came along, Mister Malfoy. It was good of you to bring him here. I'm surprised you did," Madame Pomfrey said, the last sentence hushed. Draco felt a rush of anger run through his core. "Excuse me?" he scoffed, turning to Pomfrey. She cleared her throat, a light blush of embarrassment crossing her cheeks. "I said, I'm surprised you did," she said, swallowing thickly. "Listen here, Pomfrey. I do not care what you think of me or my family, but I would never leave someone to bleed out on the dungeon floor- even if it is Potter," Draco hissed, fixing his collar. "Send me an owl when he is awake," he said tersely, turning and leaving the wing.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hola i return

Of course, Madame Pomfrey did not send Draco an owl. She knew Harry would not want to see Draco as soon as he woke up. Or.. at least she thought.  
See, Harry had cut his own stomach open as a test of sorts.  
He had spoken to Hermione about an absolutely insane plan he had. He told her about his meeting with Draco, and what he was. She was one hundred percent ready to take this information to Dumbledore and get Draco sent away to somewhere, preferably Azkaban in her mind. But Harry had told her to wait, just wait. He told her about his plan and promised her everything would work out alright. Hermione had insisted she come, but Harry told her no, and she obeyed his wishes.   
Harry had gone down to the dungeon at least ten minutes before he knew Draco would be there. With shaking hands, he had cut himself wide open. Thankfully, he passed out before the pain became too much to handle. He wanted to see whether or not Draco would help him or let him die. If the Malfoy chose to let Harry die, almost all of his problems would be resolved; Voldemort would get what he wants, and the Malfoy family would be released from his control. 

Harry awoke in the infirmary, bandages wrapped around his abdomen. He was, honestly, surprised that he was still alive. He blinked his eyes a few times to allow them to adjust to the bright light, then reached up to rub them. "Oh, Mister Potter! It's wonderful to see that you are awake," Madame Pomfrey said from the other side of the room when she saw him move. "Who... Who brought me here?" Harry asked. He needed to know. There was a chance that Hermione or Ron had come down and rescued him. He needed to know if it had been Malfoy. The nurse sighed quietly, walking over to his bed. "One of your little friends, dear," she lied, giving him a spoonful of medicine. Harry felt his heart drop. He knew that Draco hated him, but he left him to die? He had not thought that lowly of the blond. "Oh, thank you," Harry said, his voice quiet as he took the medicine. "When will I be able to leave?" he asked the nurse, who took a look at his wound. "As soon as you are feeling better. Your friend helped you before bringing you up," she said, smiling softly.   
Harry sat up as soon as he could, then changed into his regular clothes from the gown and left. He was going to find Malfoy and confront him. 

Draco was pacing in the Slytherin dungeon. Madame Pomfrey had not sent him an owl. What if he did not get to Harry in time? His mind was racing with everything horrible that could have happened. A hard, swift knock on the door ripped him from his thoughts. He walked over, replacing his worried expression with his usual one- hard, cold, uncaring. He opened it and was immediately shoved backward. "You left me to die?!" Harry yelled, thankful there was no one else in the common room to see them. Draco fell back, scooting away from Harry before scrambling to his feet. "What the bloody hell are you talking about?" Draco asked, holding his hands up in defense when Harry raised his fist. "You left me in the dungeon to bleed to death! I asked Pomfrey who took me to the infirmary, and she said it was one of my friends. I didn't think you were this bad, Malfoy! Have fun in Azkaban with your father," Harry spat, turning and stalking towards the exit. "Wait!" Draco called, rushing forward and grabbing Harry's sleeve. "I did take you to the infirmary! Listen, I hate you, but I wouldn't let you die," he said, staring into Harry's green eyes. The Gryffindor could see that Draco was telling the truth. "I-I asked her to send me an owl when you woke, but she never sent one... I was afraid I had been too late," The Malfoy boy said, his voice getting soft and timid. Harry looked at him for a moment more before leaving to confront the nurse.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shiT okay im back its only been forever  
> im so sorry i just up and left and this is a shit chapter to come back with its short and bleh  
> ill try to write more  
> pinky promise

Harry made his way back upstairs to the nurse's wing, his eyes full of anger. The nurse turned to him once she heard the doors open, and her smile immediately dropped once she saw the look on his face. "Harry, dear, what's the matter?" she asked, taking a step back. "You lied to me," Harry spat. "You really hate Malfoy so much that you can't even let me see the good in him? I was about to go down in that dungeon and hurt him, Pomfrey, badly," he said, breathing sharply. The nurse sighed. "I-I'm sorry, I.. I just thought you would be happier if you didn't know. I know that you and that Malfoy boy don't get along at all, and frankly, you shouldn't. He is not a good person, Harry, and neither is his family. You must be careful if you want to interact with his kind," she said, her voice quiet and foreboding. Harry said nothing more before leaving again. He cast a quick Patronus, sending the magical creature to fetch Draco. 

The Malfoy boy was sitting on one of the black leather couches that sat in the Slytherin common room. He looked up as the room was suddenly brighter. Harry's Patronus had entered. His voice came softly from the stag. "Come to the Gryffindor tower," was the simple message. The blond sighed and stood as the Patronus dissipated into nothing. He had always been jealous of those who could produce a Patronus charm; his Dark Mark forbade him from conjuring one. Well, that along with the fact that his life was nothing but fear and misery. Even Harry had enough happy memories to conjure one, and his life was nearly just as shitty. 

Draco made his way through the long, winding corridors and moving staircases until he reached the Gryffindor Tower. He sighed when he received a look of disgust from the Fat Lady- the portrait that guarded the door. "Go away, Mister Malfoy," she huffed, crossing her arms. Draco said nothing in response, and knocked on the door, being careful not to hit the woman in the painting. It took a few moments, but Harry eventually opened the door. "Come in," he said quietly. The warm, cozy Gryffindor common room was nearly deserted- the only people there were himself, Harry, Hermione and Ron. The whole tower smelled of sugar cookie candles which was a welcome scent after the harsh incense that filled the Slytherin dungeons. The blond boy swallowed hard when he looked at Harry's friends. "You've told them," he said, glancing at the brunette. "I couldn't keep it a secret from them. They are the only ones who know," Harry responded, taking a seat beside his best friends on the burgundy couch. Draco stood awkwardly in front of the three. He felt as if he was stood in front of judges, on trial for his actions. "Granger, Weasley," Draco greeted the other two Gryffindors curtly. "Malfoy," Ron replied through gritted teeth. "What did you want with me?" he asked Harry, chewing nervously on the inside of his lower lip. "Sit down, Malfoy. Relax," Harry told him, motioning to the chair that was across from the couch. Draco sat, but was anything but relaxed. He looked so out of place among all of the warm, welcoming colours in the Gryffindor common room. The sharp, cold colours of Slytherin suited him much better. 

"I want to make you a deal," Harry said, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his thighs. Draco only seemed to tense more at Harry's proposal. "I will be your... 'blood mate', or whatever you want to call it. You will feed off of me, and me alone. You will not hurt any one else in this castle. In return, you will be our spy. You will tell us everything that goes on among the Death Eaters, and if we think you're lying to us, we will not hesitate to go to extreme measures to get the truth. Understood?" the brunette said, looking over at the Slytherin boy who seemed to shrink with every word he said. Draco ran what Harry had said through his mind over and over again. If Voldemort caught him, he would surely be killed, but if he refused Harry's offer he would be sent to Azkaban for sure. As Draco stared at the dark wood floor he felt Harry's friends' eyes boring into him. They were waiting for him to do anything that would give them an excuse to pounce on him. The blond nodded, finally looking up at Harry. "Understood," he spoke quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper. His hands were shaking as he messed with the hem of his robes. "I want to see it," Ron spoke up, nodding at Draco's arm. Draco followed Ron's eyes, and instinctively rubbed his arm. "Ron," Harry said, lowly. As the ginger was about to retort, Draco shook his head. "It is okay," he said quietly, and pulled up the sleeve of his robe.

The Dark Mark looked even darker on Draco's porcelain skin. The black ink was cut through by small, white lines. There were larger lines that wrapped around Draco's arm from the bathroom incident with Harry. He had scars across his entire body that he would be stuck with his entire life. That was one thing that Harry felt immensely guilty for. Draco couldn't look at the mark. He hated it. If it weren't for his mother, he would have made sure he was dead by now. He hated his mark, he hated what he was, he hated what he had to do to survive and what he had to do for the Dark Lord. He wanted to run away and never come home. Hermione saw the emotions behind Draco's eyes, and slowly reached out to take his hand. The blond looked up in surprise, but didn't pull his hand away. He squeezed hers. "I... I am sorry for how I treated you, Granger. I was ignorant. Well, I suppose I still am, but far less so. You are a bright woman, and a strong one," he said softly. Both Ron and Harry were surprised at Draco's heartfelt apology to Hermione, who smiled. "It means a lot to hear that," she said quietly. Ron was immediately suspicious of the blond. In his mind, there was no way that Draco could redeem himself. He wouldn't let the girl he loved be hurt by the monster he believed Draco was. 

Draco, on the other hand, saw a ray of hope for the first time in years.


End file.
